Imperial Saint Sovereign - Chapter C614 Magic Flame City

My name is Lin Luoqing. Today, I transmigrated into a book but I’m not panicked at all. It is because I know the direction of this book very well. I can definitely use the plot advantage to reach the peak of my life and become a winner in life!

Hey, what is with that child over there who is peeking at me? How did he show up at my house? He is looking at me with three parts sadness, five parts dissatisfaction and two parts complicated.

- Description from Novelupdates

When I transmigrated, the protagonist was already dead.Now, I have to protect the world after the bad ending.So first things first, I became the enemy of the main heroine, who was on the brink of ending her life.“I finally understand what all those things you said really meant.”“I’m like this because of you, junior. Take responsibility.”“I can only sleep when I’m next to you.”…But for some reason, everyone is starting to act a little strange.

The novel is about an author who was reincarnated into his novel.This author thought that he would become a hero, like he always wished, but no, his fate was to become a Villain.His fate was to fight against humanity and against the supreme beings who were planning to invade the world.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”